4ST EDITION Vol. 2 Technique
4ST Edition is an informal infographic. In our second issue, our contributors approach the theme Technique. This magazine is made by students at the Arts University Bournemouth. For more information, please contact us on 4stmaga@gmail.com
4ST Edition is an informal infographic. In our second issue, our contributors approach the theme Technique. This magazine is made by students at the Arts University Bournemouth. For more information, please contact us on 4stmaga@gmail.com
You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
1
PROLOGUE
The funny thing about ‘technique’ is that it’s
a noun; but it feels like a verb. It feels like
something you might do, it feels like it should
be an action of some kind, but instead you act
with technique. So, what is this elusive concept
that comprises our second issue? Well, it’s the
way you do whatever it is you’re doing. It’s
the skill involved. Classic examples of flawless
technique include: the sham interest of our
government in climate action, the manner in
which Trump concluded his time in office, and
the Tate Modern’s recent exhibit Literal Rubbiśh
Off The Floore.
That aside, the word itself suggests proficiency;
we’re used to hearing about the ‘flawless
technique’ of great masters before us. Though
in truth, technique is not always good.
Whatever technique you follow to paint that
portrait might not be the ‘best’ technique.
It might not even be the second best. Your
instructor sweetly reminds you it is pretty much
the worst way anyone has ever painted ever.
Hold on, we think: “Sorry painting instructor,
who made you king of the world??? Who
decides your technique is right, and what gives
you the right to tell me my way is wrong?”
Of course, the answer is: they aren’t and they
can’t.
2
That said, our lecturers know their shit. That’s
why we’re here - we’re literally paying for the
transfer of information from their brains into
ours. So, plug in. Let’s steal all their tricks
because you never know what will be useful in
10 years. Write that down but also write just
underneath: they are brilliant at what they do,
but they might not be the best at what we do.
Moving forward is what we do. If we don’t
invent new techniques to do new things, what’s
the point of art? The aim is not to eternally
replenish the old guard, we’re aiming to be the
Avant Garde; the New ‘New Wave’. If the old
guard tell you your technique is way off, you
might be headed in the right direction. Soon
academics will refer to you as a major player in
the Neo-Post-Next New Wave-Ism!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, who cares what techniques are used if the
work is great? Fuck it, do it anyway.
4 $ T
CONTENTS
Feb 2021
6
8
10
12
16
18
20
22
25
26
30
32
34
36
“This is my rifle”, designed by Kurt Champion
The UK is blessed with technical journalists.
The Way You Chop Onions Makes Me Cry. By Bill Eustace
Technique on the Firing Line
The Renaissance Ninjas. By Lyra Fewins
The How-to’s you searched
4ST MACHINE. By Jake Collins
How to Cheat Life: Advice from the Elderly
Focus. By Callum Mayhew
Technique and Failure. By Adrian Finn
Smoke and Fire. By Kai Lever and Jan Vuong
How to make Henna. By Maria Elena Alvarez
The Red Chapter
Sometimes... friends have trouble with sentences.
5
This is my technique.
There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My technique is my best friend. It is my
life. I must master it as I must master my
life. Without me, my technique is useless.
Without my technique, I am useless.
My technique is human, even as I, because
it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a
brother. I swear this creed. My technique and
I are the defenders of my country.
I will learn its weaknesses, its strength,
its parts, its accessories, its sights and
its barrel. I will keep my technique clean
and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We
will become part of each other.
So be it, until victory is Stanfield's and
there is no enemy, but peace.
6
gaba
7
8
Thank Heavens for top quality
journalism and good news!&%£$#
Finally
9
The Way You
Chop Onions
Makes Me Cry
When using a kitchen knife there are a few important
things to remember: grip, sharpness, type of cut for
your particular dish, and choice of knife. All of which
help in making your kitchen safer and more efficient.
Plus, you’ll achieve better tasting food.
Type of cut
There are many different types of cut with elongated
and fancy names which can be daunting when read
straight from a recipe book. The three main ones you
need for the majority of your cooking: sliced, diced
and julienne. When cooking a meal, as a general
rule you would stick to one cutting style throughout the
dish. The easiest cut is generally to cut across grain of
your food into evenly sized pieces, measured by height,
thickness or weight. An example of this might be slicing
celery for a base flavour in a bolognese, along with your
carrots and onion. To dice an onion, you would make
cuts along the halved onion (making sure the root is still
holding it all together), then make a cut horizontally
through the onion and finally vertically down to make
each part into evenly sized squares. (See the top three
images for reference). You could also dice a pepper for
example by first using a julienne cut; making it into
evenly sized match stick shapes (see image right) and
then to dice it simply cut along the sticks to make them
small evenly sized cubes. Julienne is great for stir fry and
is often used in Asian cuisine.
Grip
When holding a sharp knife you are of course at risk
of cutting yourself. (Make sure you understand the
instructions completely before handling any sharp
knives, and please be careful!) What we want is
maximum control over the blade, in order to minimise
risk. A knife is made up of two main parts, the handle
and the blade. Most people assume to hold the handle
and cut with the blade. Which makes a lot of sense,
right? However, maybe not so obvious is that you will
have the greatest control of the knife by holding it with
thumb and forefinger on the top of the blade and the
10
other fingers wrapped around the handle. (See bottom
left image.) The more control we have over the knife the
sharper and more precise your chopping skills will be.
Choice of blade
Cutting different foods often requires different knives.
Everyone can spot the bread knife from the butchers
knife. But what are the most important knives to have
in your kitchen? A chef ’s knife and a Santoku knife are
the primary knives you could use. A chef ’s knife has
a triangular shaped blade and can be used for most
things. The triangular shape allows for easy rocking
motion, helping you chop faster and gives you extra
leverage when more power is needed in a cut. The
alternate being the Santoku knife (Santoku meaning
“three virtues”, or “three uses” in Japanese) which has
a flat and finer edge, allowing for more precision but
more of a slicing motion than a rocking one involved;
great for chopping vegetables. Its other superpower
is its scalloped (or grooved) blade, causing the food
to slide off the side of the blade and not stick. For big
meat eaters cleaver and boning knives are useful.
The cleaver is a heavy duty knife, designed for tasks like
cutting through bone in one clean chop. The boning
knife does a similar job but takes the opposite approach;
supple and sharp, perfect for filleting cuts of meat.
However it is not a necessity in a home kitchen. Another
knife that can be put to use in your kitchen would be
a paring knife, which is excellent for fine peeling.
Mostly it would be used for citrus fruits. However, it
doesn’t offer much that the Santoku can’t do. Lastly, a
common knife we likely all have is the bread knife. Of
course, it’s mostly used for breads but the long blade and
cerated edge is also great for carving meat and levelling
and splitting cakes too.
CHEF’S KNIFE
SANTOKU KNIFE
Sharpness
The sharper your knife the safer it is. It sounds counterintuitive
but a sharper blade means less force is
required to make your cuts, and so there is less chance
of the blade slipping. Knife steels are a good way of
maintaining the angle of the bevel. But to actually
sharpen your knife your best bet is to use a whetstone.
Different stones have different grits. For an average
kitchen knife a 1000 to 8000 grit stone would be most
suitable. Too high a grit would risk dulling the blade,
too low a grit wouldn’t sharpen it either. It’s best to
look online for guidance when trying to buy or use a
whetstone as a beginner.
11
12
TECHNIQUE ON THE FIRING LINE
The target shudders in the layered heat,
And every aim is hazard. Schooled or not,
Secure and dry, or slick with its own sweat,
The hand alone cannot perfect the shot.
Distance and windage, or the quirks of use,
The sights will compensate. Will they restore,
Where each concentric circle grows diffuse,
An aim whose center can be seen no more?
Turner Cassidy
13
The Renaissance Ninjas:
Did they know something we don’t?
The majority of university students are either
part of generation X or are a 90s kid, so you’re
probably aware of the Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles (TMNT); the comic book, turned animated
90s show, turned merchandising
empire that makes superheroes
out of giant, musclebound
turtles. They are, of course,
based on four of the leading
Renaissance masters:
Donatello, Leonardo,
Michelangelo and
Raphael. Donatello
is credited with
being a part
of the ‘Early
Renaissance’,
in the break
away from the
Gothic style,
paving the way
for the ‘High
Renaissance’,
which many art
historians consider
to be dominated
by the latter three
masters. The unprecedented fame of these four is a
mixed blessing. The widespread distribution of, say,
The Mona Lisa, onto postcards, keychains and even
adverts (and magazines) means that we are all aware
of the “work of art”, but how often do we actually
look at it with fresh eyes, understanding what we see?
The same can be said for any of the work of these
Renaissance ninjas. It’s too easy to forget that the
magic produced at their hands was not miraculous.
The artists were absolutely aware of every vice
used to construct the great illusions on the following
pages: nothing was for free. We need to remember
that the great art is paid for in relentless work by real
artists.
The sculptor Donatello (1386-1466) was a major
creative force behind the Florentine Renaissance,
which then inspired much of Early Renaissance art
throughout Italy. Sculpture was reinvented in that
period. Prior to the Renaissance, a Gothic sculptor
did not aim at the realism we are often accustomed
to today; Gothic art has been described as “otherworldly”.
Donatello broke away from the Medieval
formula, as his sculptures were some of the first since
antiquity to present anatomy correctly.
The marble statue of St. George (1416) is human,
and from our world; the face of his saint shows
evidence of study of real human anatomy, using
14
St. George (1416)
Pazzi Madonna (1430)
David (1416)
Da Vinci’s study of a horse in motion.
models in his workshop. His statue David (1440) (not
to be confused with Michelangelo’s David (1501-
4)*) was the first free-standing male nude since the
Greeks, and uses a contrapposto pose, where one leg
supports the body, meaning there is a counterbalance
between the ribcage and pelvis, which is also seen
often in Greek sculpture. He also pioneered a
technique known as schiacciato, or shallow relief,
which involves carving only millimetres deep, but
the thickness gradually increases from foreground to
background, giving the illusion of greater depth. On
example of this technique is seen in the marble relief
(left) Pazzi Madonna (1430).
Donatello was part of a circle of 15th century
Florentine artists who were desperate for the revival
of art, they turned to nature and science to realise
these new aims. This practise was adopted by an
artist of the next generation: Leonardo Da Vinci
(1452-1519).
It is fitting that the cartoon Leonardo is
depicted as the “most skilled… most serious…
most disciplined” of the turtles: but the real Da
Vinci was more than multi-talented, he shined in
the visual and musical arts but also as an engineer,
biologist, mathematician and physicist among other
disciplines. In his writing we find the phrase “the
sun does not move”, as he anticipated Copernicus’
theory that the sun is the centre of the universe.
One art historian commented that it is a wonder
“one human being could have excelled in all these
different fields of research and made important
contributions to nearly all of them”. It is known
he dissected at least 30 corpses to fully understand
human anatomy and was the first to research the
anatomy of a child in the womb. However, luckily
for us, it seems Da Vinci had no ambition to be
considered a scientist, and used his research as a
foundation for his art.
The portrait The Mona Lisa (1502) is so infamous
because her expression eludes us. She feels alive,
so what is she thinking? Leonardo achieved this
result by leaving us something to guess. He knew
that facial expressions come from the angles of the
corners of the eyes and their relationship to the
corners of the mouth. He painted by layering glazes,
and so was able to melt the forms in these areas
into one another, creating soft shadows. Therefore,
her expression is left to the imagination and thus it
Left. The Mona Lisa (1502)
Below. Anatomy studies by Da Vinci.
15
changes every time we look. This technique is called
sfumato and was, of course, invented by the artist.
From writings of Leonardo’s contemporaries, we
hear how he stood for days in front of The Last Supper
(1495-1498)*, thinking before making even a single
brush stroke: if there’s one technique we ought steal
from Da Vinci today, it is his patience. This appears
to have been shared by all four of these masters, even
the hot-headed Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564).
In contrast to the cheeky, excitable ninja turtle Mikey,
Michelangelo was known to have been volatile, even
at one stage sending a rude letter to Pope Julius II,
after the Pope cancelled a commission the artist had
been looking forward to.
Unlike Leonardo, Michelangelo did not see man
as one of the many puzzles in nature, but instead saw
anatomical man as the ultimate riddle, and dedicated
his life to mastering it, just as the Greeks had. We see
his exhaustive study of the body in his sketchbooks,
but his goal is most realised in his iconic painting on
the vault of the Sistine Chapel, including The Creation
of Adam (1508-1512). The vast painting (part of
which is illustrated below) allowed Michelangelo to
demonstrate that no posture or attitude of the body
was too difficult for him to draw. Be it static or in
motion, the muscles twist and turn but always remain
graceful. (It is this fact that permits modern animators
to exclaim “If he were alive today, he would’ve been
an animator!”)
As if rendering the human body in such detail
and on such a massive scale wasn’t enough,
Michelangelo painted the vault lying on his
back, meanwhile creating a harmonious design
across the entire ceiling, and convincingly
conveying scenes from the Bible at the same time.
The vault was painted as a series of frescoes, which
means painting onto freshly laid wet plaster, making
the painting an integral part of the wall.
Evidently, he was an accomplished painter,
but Michelangelo preferred sculpting marble,
spending much time in quarries selecting stones:
he considered the figures to be already hidden
inside the stone, and thought it his job to simply
uncover them. This is true of The Dying Slave
(1516), in which Michelangelo portrays the
resignation of the slave, as he experiences the final
relaxation from the struggle of life (right). It is hard
to associate the style of the artist, whose work is so
infused with vitality, with that of death and cold.
When Michelangelo excelled at representing
the body, Raphael (1483-1520) was king of
composition. In TMNT, Raphael is presented
as the aggressive, rebellious brother, the
irony being that the real artist is said to
have been charming and affable. His
sociable qualities sometimes made him
the object of desire for commissions over
the brooding Michelangelo, causing a
rivalry between the pair. There was also
much competition with Da
Vinci, who
was
16
Left. Portion of The Creation of Adam (1508-1512)
This image: Michelangelo’s anatomy study.
The Dying Slave (1516)
Raphael’s studies
for a Madonna and
Child.
loved by contemporaries but frustrating for patrons
as he would often leave work unfinished.
Raphael is often known for his paintings of sweet
Madonnas, because of the calm beauty, perfect
design and balanced compositions of his paintings.
In painting The Triumph of Galatea (1514) (the poem
it is based on also inspired Bottecelli’s The Birth of
Venus*) we can observe the techniques he used to
achieve such a harmonious image. The figures
all correspond to one another, the motion of
the cupids in the sky are counterbalanced with
the cupid in the foreground, while all the lines in
the image (namely the cupid’s arrows and the reins
of her chariot) converge on the central character, the
nymph Galatea. Raphael idealises nature without
losing any sincerity in the process. In his other work,
for instance Madonna of the Meadow (1506)* we can
observe the pyramidal structure of the three figures,
balanced perfectly within the image.
Raphael took great pains to achieve such
harmony. If we view a leaf of his sketchbook (above)
in which he plans out the arrangement of the figures
for one of his paintings with the Madonna and
Child, in order to best convey their relationship at
the moment he wishes to paint. It is said he would
draw very quickly in planning, searching for the
most balanced structure. As well as his skills in
compositional clarity, the painter is known for his use
of rich colours, independent of his interest in line
and form. In particular, when the painter became
engaged in Florence, his colour choices altered to a
more limited palette of colour values, toning down
the highly saturated colours that were characteristic
in the work of some of his contemporaries. If we
look to The Betrothal of the Virgin (1504)*, we can
observe how the colours do not complete with each
other for our attention. Again, Raphael focuses on
harmony: he mastered the interplay of colours,
completely aware of the effect of each new colour
on the whole, just as he mastered the relationships
between figures in creating balance. We can observe
the height of the artist’s colour and compositional
powers in The School of Athens (1509-1511)*,
completed just nine years before his death at the
young age of 37.
Stemming from Donatello’s work: some argue
Raphael, Leonardo and Michelangelo formed the
trinity of masters in the so called ‘High Renaissance’,
spearheading the apogee of the artistic revolution,
in which science and art combined to harness
anatomy and perspective, creating images of the
“most exceptional” quality that art had seen to that
date. Art had finally regained the knowledge lost
since classical antiquity. Some art historians argue
that the Renaissance was buried with Raphael,
while others suggest it waned in 1527 with the fall of
Rome, but all are still astounded with the technical
achievements of these four Renaissance ninjas.
* Image not reproduced here.
The Triumph of Galatea (1514)
17
18
Most Searched How-to's
Most Searched How-to's
How to delete facebook (0.7)
How to download youtube videos
(5.7)
How to download from youtube
(9.0)
How to hack facebook (2.7)
How play minecraft (9.6)
monke
19
Steady hands
The art of pinstriping is best known for its
place in the motorcycle and hot rodding
community, but its origins can be traced back
to traditional sign writing.
The free-hand line work is used to accent style
lines on motorcycles and cars. To add a bit
more interest to the piece. Rolls Royce still use
hand painted coach lines on their cars today.
Coach lines had been used on production
vehicles since the early days. However in the
early 1950’s a number of artists such as Von
Dutch started adding style lines to Choppers,
which added more than just accents: they
were pieces of art. These pieces are made up
of freehand line-work which is usually done
with a special brush and enamel paints. On
a sculptural object, such as a fuel tank or a
bonnet the piece flows with the physical lines,
helping it embed itself on the object.
“Like vines growing
on the metal.”
- Steve Kafka
This piece to the right is on a Harley Davidson
Motorcycle front wheel arch, painted by Steve
Kafka. Steve starts by painting on the scroll
work down the spine of the arch, front to back
with no reference lines or measuring. He just
20
uses his eye and a steady hand. He builds
on the design by “adding body”, accenting
different curves with extensions or painting
parallel curve. It quickly builds up a base
which he adds complimenting colours to.
As the piece develops he adds contrasting
colours over the top. The combinations of
colours add a psychadellic feel to the work.
The finished result is pretty fantastic,
something which truly makes you stand out at
a bike meet or show.
These images are taken from one of Steve Kafka’s videos on Youtube. There’s loads of great
videos of him going about his work. I recommend his channel if your interested in learning more
about this kind of stuff.
21
How To Cheat Life:
Advice From the Elderly
“Stuff is just stuff. Hoard time
instead.”
“Be skeptical of everything:
of politicians, of religion,
of scientists, of media, of
corporations, and of skeptics.”
“Eat like you’re a diabetic heart
patient with a stroke - so you
never become one.”
“Listen more than talk. And
“listening” doesn’t mean waiting
for the other person to shut up so
you can start talking again.”
“Read like a monster. Fuck with
love and often. Listen to good
music more than that. Quit
spending money on crap, because
crap becomes hard to store.”
“The right job is the job you
love some days and can tolerate
most days and still pays the bills.
Almost nobody has a job they love
every day.”
“Your job provides the means to
do what’s really important in life,
nothing more. Do the job but live
for your family.”
“Floss regularly, dental problems
are awful.”
“Don’t wake up and realize that
you are 60 years old and haven’t
done the things you dreamed
about.”
“Learn something about finance
if you haven’t.”
“If you’re getting overwhelmed
just return to the immediate
present moment and savor all
that is comforting. Your life is not
as serious as you think it is.”
22
23
24
Edward Hopper. Office in a small city. (1953)
The Metropolitan Museum.
Callum Mayhew. Focus. (2021)
25
26
27
Technique as a subject for this
magazine suits me well. Why? Because
I am notorious for lacking technique in
my work, and upon hearing that it would
be the theme of this issue of 4ST, I had
absolutely no idea how to respond for a
while.
The word technique as a theme
hits me quite personally – just before
intermitting my studies this year I
presented my ongoing thesis project
to peers and guest tutors. There was a
unanimous conclusion amongst everyone
that when it comes to crafting and
making, my techniques lacked ‘rigour’.
Rigour is the intense guidance and
teachings of the master when dealing
with his apprentice – it is the disapproving
voice in the back of your head when you
are knowingly taking a shortcut with a
delicate task – it is the pen deliberately
marking the paper exactly how you
intended. But rigour doesn’t apply to
your work because you wish for it to
be that way, and it doesn’t happen just
because you listened to the guidance
you were given and agreed to follow it.
Perhaps you are an illustrator – rigour is
demonstrated when your pen has dotted
ten thousand dots on ink paper, with each
dot encapsulating the exact balance of ink
spread through the molecules of cellulose
fibres whilst simultaneously staying within
a boundary defined by the lightest touch
of nib to paper.
The outcome of rigour is captured in
time for all to see at the presentation of a
beautiful work of art or craft. But when
can we say that the act of rigour – the act
of well-versed and brilliant technique –
actually begins?
Whilst teaching at a summer camp in
China, I asked to be taught calligraphy
on the school campus in my free time
between lessons. I always appreciated the
thick brush strokes of Chinese characters
on scrolls, lanterns, posters; I wanted to
try it for myself.
So I was sat in a room with other
English teachers, and we were paired at
desks with Chinese students who would
teach us the techniques behind producing
Chinese Calligraphy. In front of us were
sheets of rice paper that complemented
the viscosity of the black ink. The paper
had a grid and guidelines for the path
and direction your brushstrokes needed
to take.
The child showed me how to hold
the brush – I was told to hold it in a sort
of pincer formation with my right hand
(my left-handedness was not met with
sympathy here). The brush needed to face
directly downwards, perfectly vertical. I
gripped it in the pincer, moved the brush
to the inkpot, dipped it, allowed some
run-off to drop, tapped it to the glass rim,
returned my brush above the paper, and
with my hand I descended–
“NOOOOOO! You hold it wrong!
See!”
The six year old (six years old!)
snatched the brush from me. You see,
before I had even put the brush to the
paper, I was already calligraphing wrong.
Between being handed the brush and
putting ink to paper, I had unconsciously
adjusted my pincer grip into a pen grip.
Most likely the muscles in my fingers had
adjusted to allow my thumb and index
finger to stretcah down the brush, then
come together at their tips to press the
brush down onto my middle finger which
supported the brush from underneath.
I shouldn’t beat myself up too much
over being talked down to by a six-yearold
over my lack of basic technique with
a brush. After all, none of us westerners
fared too well at the calligraphy table
in the end. When there is a spectrum
of people out there who out-do you at
technique, and that spectrum can stretch
as low as the age bracket of six-year-olds,
you have to have some humility.
Technique is a thing that by and
large has to be passed down from the
knowledgeable to the ill-informed,
otherwise mistakes are embedded in
the process of performing a task. These
mistakes, no matter how subtle, can
reveal themselves at any level of expertise
in performing a task. In order to act
with rigour, it helps to acknowledge that
you can perform a task with incorrect
technique before you have even made an
action.
But how do we assess rigour and
technique at the end of a project, when
the final piece is presented to others after
actioning all of that careful work?
28
Last year I buddied up with
Modelmaking students so that we
could share wisdom between our
subjects. In the end, they taught me
about all sorts of processes towards
crafting an impressive scale model:
They showed me Primer Spray for
preparing and smoothing down the
rough layered surface of a 3D print;
they taught me the process of priming
and sanding wood multiple times
instead of just going down the grades
of wet/dry paper once; they lent me
wax wipes that are used to remove
wood dust from a sanded surface,
allowing for smoother painted surfaces
than I had ever made before; but
most importantly they had stuck with
me long enough to make me want to
spend a whole week putting all of my
care and rigour into one clean and
pristine model with no expenses spared
and no small part rushed. In the end,
I was in awe of my own models. They
were achievements that
I had never come close to before –
were they out of character for me, or
born from untapped potential?
My closest Modelmaking friend,
Shannon, visited the Architecture
studio to come see the finished models.
She looked at one of the models –
it was an aerial view over Throop
Village, as if from a plane above, on
a circular ply board with intricately
cut coloured card and laser-cut thin
cardboard depicting terrain and
buildings below.
She looked at me, then back to the
model. She brought her eyes close to it
and placed her index finger lightly on
the lawn green card that represented
the grasslands of Throop. She lifted
and pressed her finger. Like the most
sensitive popper on an unsealed jam
jar lid, the card bounced up ever so
slightly, then back down.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I held
my head in my hands – she had seen
something that I would have never
spotted in a thousand years. But
then this is the thing about rigour,
and it presents itself in the ability
gap between Modelmaking and
Architecture students. Sure, there is a
technique to all things, but there isn’t
exactly a defined limit to the rigour
involved in implementing the strictest
of strict technique.
Sure, I’d been more rigorous and
painstaking in a craft than I had ever
been before – but for a Modelmaker,
it wasn’t enough – for a client
like Aardman or Wes Anderson’s
production team, it is amateur. If only
I had evenly spread the dots of superglue
along the underside of the card
instead of leaving space between each
dot… but then surely the super-glue
would have dried before I could stick
it down? Would a different glue have
been better, like a spray adhesive? Or
would a glue like that be too dense and
penetrate the card too much? There
are plenty more of these questions to
be asked that build up on one another
and compound – and by starting the
making process again we can restart
the process and try to iron out those
mistakes from the very beginning.
At AUB we think by making. You
can tell this because in most of the
studio spaces, and even outside of
them occasionally, all sorts of materials
and works are strewn around – there
are failed ideas and botched works
on floors, walls, and desks (not nearly
enough on ceilings, come to think of
it).
I could have shared with you all
some good examples of executed
technique or rigour, but this magazine
features plenty of that already. So take
these failures I have shared and see if
you can relate. I predict your mind has
either wandered to imagining what
my failures looked like, or where your
own failures align with mine. Take this
positively now: To the Third Years out
there: how good does it feel seriously
reflecting on how far you’ve come
from first year? And to the First Years:
I hope you are all being nosy when
around the year groups above, and not
being shy to ask how they achieved a
given technical accomplishment that
you admire.
So back to your own work – you
failed at something? That’s a shame.
But you’re still here? Good. Try again.
You may never get there, but you
may get so close to perfection that
no one noticed you botched it except
yourself.
29
30
31
How to make Henna
1. Sift henna powder and sugar into a
bowl and add lemon juice gradually, keep
stirring .
2.Add your essential oil. and keep stirring
until your paste goes smooth.
Ingredients:
6 tsp henna powder
2 tsp eucalyptus oil (lavender if using
paste on children)
2 tsp sugar
Lemon juice
3. Leave your paste at room temperature
for 24 hours for dye to be released.
Always cover your henna paste with a
cling film or plastic. Without dye release
the henna won’t give any stain on skin.
4. Give henna paste a final stir with an
electric whisk to remove any lumps
5. Fill carrot piping bag with henna paste
mixture and cut the tip then pipe henna
cones with the paste. Push all the paste
to the bottom and seal the end of cones
securely.
6. Do a 5 minute spot test and final check
of consistency
32
33
THE RED CHAPTER
TO OUR FRIENDS
Techniques against technology - The Invisible Committee
“One only has to look at the state of
incompletion in which the human offspring
is born, and the time it takes for it to talk
and to realize that its relation to the world is
not given in the least, but rather the result
of a whole elaboration. Since it’s not due
to natural compatibility, man’s relation to
the world is essentially artificial, technical.
Each human world is a certain configuration
of techniques: of culinary, architectural,
musical, spiritual, agricultural, erotic, martial,
etc techniques. And it’s for this reason that
there’s no generic human essence: because
there are only particular techniques, and
because every technique configures a
world, materializing in this way a certain
relationship with the latter, a certain form of
life. So one doesn’t “construct” a form of life;
one only incorporates techniques, through
example, exercise, or apprenticeship.
(...) Hence the technical character of our
world only stands out in two circumstances:
invention and “breakdown.” It’s only
when we’re present at a discovery or
when a familiar element is lacking, or
breaks, or stops functioning, that the
illusion of living in a natural world gives
way in the face of contrary evidence.
Every tool configures and embodies a
particular relation with the world, and the
worlds formed in this way are not equivalent.
There is nothing that would establish some
as more “advanced” worlds than others.
They are merely distinct, each one having
its own potential and its own history. In
order to hierarchize worlds a criterion has
to be introduced, making it possible to
classify the different techniques. In the
case of progress, this criterion is simply
the quantifiable productivity of the
techniques, considered apart from what
each technique might involve ethically,
without regard to the sensible world it
engenders. This is why there’s no progress
but capitalist progress, and why capitalism
is the uninterrupted destruction of worlds.”
34
(...) technology is the neutralization of all the particular techniques. In this sense capitalism
is essentially technological; it is the profitable organization of the most productive
techniques into a system.
Its cardinal figure is not the economist but the engineer. The engineer is the specialist
in techniques and thus the chief expropriator of them, one who doesn’t let himself be
affected by any of them, and spreads his own absence from the world everywhere he
can. He’s a sad and servile figure. The solidarity between capitalism and socialism is
confirmed there: in the cult of the engineer. It was engineers who drew up most of the
models of the neoclassical economy like pieces of contemporary trading software.
The figure of the hacker contrasts point
by point with the figure of the engineer,
whatever the artistic, police-directed, or
entrepreneurial efforts to neutralize him
may be. Whereas the engineer would
capture everything that functions, in such
a way that everything functions better
in service to the system, the hacker asks
himself “How does that work?” in order
to find its flaws, but also to invent other
uses, to experiment. Experimenting
then means exploring what such and
such a technique implies ethically.
The hacker pulls techniques out of the
technological system in order to free them.
If we are slaves of technology, this is
precisely because there is a whole ensemble
of artifacts of our everyday existence that
we take to be specifically “technical” and
that we will always regard simply as black
boxes of which we are the innocent users.
Understanding how the devices around
us work brings an immediate increase in
power, giving us a purchase on what will
then no longer appear as an environment,
but as a world arranged in a certain
way and one that we can shape. This is
the hacker’s perspective on the world.”
35
Sometimes I hate technique. . It
makes me really angry and then I go
and do somthing stupid scribble out
and croos
out and ruin
my work. go and do somthing stupid
scribble out and croos why
out
and ruinmy work. go and do somthing
stupid scribble out and croos
out and ruingo and do somthing
stupid scribble out and croos
out and ruin my work. my work.sten
here you little shit lets make this look
good yeah? pleasego and do somthing
stupid scribble out and croos out and
ruin my work.
36
meta
Thank you for lessening the blow
on my weakness of grammar by
mentioning that some of your college
friends have trouble with sentence
structure. I think some writers do
suffer this fate mainly because at
heart they are rebellious and the
rules of grammar like many of the
other rules of our world call for a
herding in and a confirmation that
the natural writer instinctively
abhors. Thank you for lessening the
blow on my weakness of grammar by
mentioning that some of your college
friends have trouble with sentences.
37
4ST